Learning to Like It
by Anria
Summary: Ken muses while stuck in solitary. Warning: this is a Gluhen fic. Also contains spoilers for the very end of the series.


This random fic grew out of a) the end of the Gluhen series where Ken's in prison and completely PSYCHO, and b) a random drabble fic I did a while ago while trying to get my head around Ken's character. For some reason I am drawn to Psycho!Ken. O.o

**Warnings**: insanity, rambling, violent descriptions, wildly OOC Ken. I overdid it, but I like the fic too much to change it. ^_^  
**Disclaimer**: Not mine. Damn.  
**Archive**: Lunacy in Two Forms. The URL's on my profile page. ^_^

**Learning to Like It  
by Anria  
  
**

The first time I played football, I didn't like it.   
  
That was always the way with me. If I liked something instantly, it never lasted - but if I learned to like it, I'd never fully get rid of the obsession. Not that I tried that hard.   
  
I didn't like it the second time, or the third, or even the fourth, but I kept playing and as I did I started getting better at it and enjoying it. It took a while for me to love it, but once I did there was nothing in the world to compare to football. It was my life, it was my love, it was my everything.   
  
Well. I can't have that any more.   
  
But that doesn't mean I can't have something else.   
  
The first time I killed someone, I didn't like it either.   
  


~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  


They stuck me in solitary again. I don't mind, although I can't quite figure out why. I guess that's what solitary's for, figuring out the reasons.   
  
I only broke his arm. It's not like I stole his food or something.   
  
To be honest . . . I don't really remember what happened. Okay, I remember that there was this little kid . . . too young to have done anything really wrong. He looked like Omi. The guy was talking to him, saying about showing him the ropes, and then he hit him in the arm. The kid went 'ow', kinda jokingly, and had this kicked puppy look - reminded me of Omi when Ouka died. It made me mad because the guy had hurt him and he was laughing at the kid and-   
  
Next thing I knew, the guy's arm was broken and they were dragging me off to solitary like it's actual _punishment_.   
  
. . .   
  
It's been a long time since I've killed anyone.   
  
Feels like an itch in my palms. I keep clenching my fist, expecting my bugnuks to be there and the blades to pop out and - and - and where are my bugnuks, anyway?   
  
Maybe Omi knows. But Omi's dead, isn't he. . . ? There's only a Takatori left. The Takatori put me in this prison. Aya was right, you can't trust a Takatori - he killed Omi. Killed him. Took him away from me, and Omi was my friend.   
  
He was my _**FRIEND!**_   
  
Omi's dead. His mother shot him. No, wait, that was Sena. Sena and Omi. Omi and Sena. Sena looked so much like him I think Persia put him in Weiss to stop me missing Omi so much. Omi was a good kid. Is a good kid. He's still alive, isn't he?   
  
Omi has my bugnuks. He said he'd look after them.   
  
Why am in here?   
  
Omi said . . . Omi said. . . .   
  
Takatori said when I knew why I was put in here I could come out.   
  
Fucking Takatoris.   
  
. . .   
  
Never used to like football.   
  
Never used to like killing.   
  
I wonder if I could combine the two? The feel of thick, hot blood running over my hands, kicking the ball down the field. . . .   
  
A red ball. A red ball would be good.   
  
. . . when was the last time I played football?   
  
His arm made such a nice sound when it snapped. Crack! And then some tearing. Like biting through the sharp pastry outside a cake to get to the gooey stuff inside. Crack-squidge. Heh.   
  
They'll want me to apologise to him, or stay away from him. But his arm made such a lovely noise when it snapped. . . . Maybe I can snap the other one, give him a matching set. Anyway, I don't think he hurt Omi much. Or was it Sena? Sometimes it's hard to keep the two of them straight in my head. Whatever. The kid was probably faking it, but he'd be to embarrassed to apologise so I've got to be nice when I get out. Ask him how it's healing.   
  
Maybe later he'll let me break the other one. We'd be friends then.   
  
You can't have friendships that aren't splattered with blood. Weiss taught me that.   
  
Yohji went crazy, you know. Starting hallucinating, saw Asuka everywhere. Jeez. Well, he was never the most stable of people.   
  
. . .   
  
Why am I in here?   
  
. . . when can I get out? I want to see Aya. I didn't get to tell him . . . get to tell him. . . .   
  
I can't remember what I was supposed to tell him. I just didn't get the chance to.   
  
Did he die?   
  
No, that was Omi. Takatori killed Omi. Or was it Sena?   
  
I like this cell. It helps me think.   
  
His arm made such a nice sound when it snapped.   
  
. . . I wanna get out and see what sound the other one makes. But anticipation's half the fun - staying in solitary I can image all the different sounds it might make, whether I could get the bone to pass through the skin, make him bleed hot, red blood. . . .   
  
We'd be friends for life if I did that, right? 

[Owari]

Ehe . . . ::sweatdrop:: Yes. Right. Um . . . what did you think?


End file.
